


Came Back Wrong

by wowitsanaltaccount



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [2]
Category: Video Blogging RPF, jacksepticeye egos - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Buried Alive, Dismemberment, Hurt No Comfort, Robbie the zombie - Freeform, but really minor, came back wrong, just tagging that in case its a trigger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:13:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28334439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wowitsanaltaccount/pseuds/wowitsanaltaccount
Summary: What was happening? Where is he? Why is he here? Why can't he remember anything?
Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2073399
Kudos: 7





	Came Back Wrong

**Author's Note:**

> And we are kicking off the BTHB Series with a Robbie story! This is one I desperately wanted to write when I saw the prompt on the card, it just fit so well. And Robbie is such an interesting character, I really wanted to toy with his mental state and explore how as a zombie, his brain would work. Anyways, please enjoy the angst.

A pair of eyes slowly opened, blinking away the fog of sleep. Where was he? Last he remembered- oh. He’s in a coffin. Okay. For awhile the man simply laid there, not processing the information, not panicking in his situation, just laying in the suffocating darkness. He raised a hand to the lid of the coffin, feeling the material for a moment before reeling his fist back and punching through. The lid of the cheap coffin burst and damp soil poured onto his face. 

What was happening? Why is he here? He stopped his assault, lying in the coffin and buried in soil. He took no breaths, he didn’t blink, he never moved. He simply lay there, content in his current situation. What was happening? Finally moving, he pawed at the soil a little bit. Oh, right. He’s getting out. 

Why is he getting out? Where is he? All these questions aren’t important, he decided. If he wanted out then he would get out and answer the other questions from there. With that decision made, he began to push at the dirt around him and crawl through the hole he made. It was slow going, he made sure to paw at the dirt carefully so that he wouldn’t lose a finger.

The soil under his hands crumbled and he slid down. What’s happening? He picked up a dirt chunk and toyed with it, easily crushing it in his hand. Why is he in a hole? Where’s the light? He broke another chunk of dirt and it sprayed into his face, causing him to sneeze. 

The surface, right. He has to get out.

Why? The hole was kind of nice. He’d never liked bright lights, they made his eyes want to pop out sometimes. His hole was nice, dark and damp and small. Like he was constantly getting a hug from a crushing amount of dirt. He liked that. It felt nice. He almost decided to just stay there when he remembered.

He has to get out. 

He couldn’t remember why yet but he knew that he had to find the outside. So he kept going. Handful after handful of dirt he climbed. He doesn’t like the dirt on his face. It gets in his nose and makes it tickle, and his eyes feel weird. If any of his tastebuds were still intact he definitely wouldn’t like the flavor, but just the texture in his mouth was icky enough. Still, he kept going. Until something hard and jagged fell from above and took his ring and pinky fingers. 

He groaned, cradling his hand to his chest as he knelt to feel around with his uninjured hand. The loose soil underneath him slid around a lot, hopefully not burying his fingers with it. Without light, he wasn’t able to see where they had dropped but eventually his hand hit the rock that knocked them off. He branched off from that, maybe the fingers were nearby? His good hand hit something that was not dirt or rock, his fingers? No, this thing was slimy and squirming. Oh, he knew about these! It’s a worm. He picked it up and felt it crawl over his skin, wishing he could see it. With a happy groan, he lifted the worm and placed it in his mouth. Good. 

Finally, he found his fingers and placed them in his pocket for safekeeping. Time to continue… What was he doing? Digging.

Why? He just lost fingers and he still didn’t remember why he was trying so hard to get out. He had so many questions and so few answers. Why was he here? What happened? Why couldn’t he remember anything? His head hurt, he was tired of the darkness, he wanted the dirt out of his eyes and nose and mouth. 

He wanted to go home.

**Author's Note:**

> The ending is purposely left open to interpretation. Does poor Robbie get out? Did he remember? Does he find the other egos? It's all up to you babey!
> 
> Also, very sorry that it's so short but there's really only so much you can do with Robbie. I love him dearly but he's not the best in a whump/angst challenge.
> 
> But, if you enjoyed it please leave kudos and a comment!! It will make my day! And check out the other works in the series, the very first one contains the bingo card and my personal rules for if you'd like to request a specific prompt/character. Thank you for reading!!


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